When Viska stretched languidly, elegantly drew her sacred longbow into a full moon, and said, in the majestic and compassionate tone of a Goddess, "Holy light, my ass," I knew there was basically nothing left for me to do. This ferocious Rogue and Older Sister, who was already wreathed in black mist beside her, would handle everything. Not to mention Monina, who had slipped into the shadows: close-range kills ranked second among the skills she was most proud of.
The skill ranked first was baking small round cakes without adding water.
Come to think of it, ever since the vicious people around me had become increasingly vicious, I seemed to have had fewer and fewer chances to fight myself. That probably counted as a kind of luck.
The battle lasted only a short time, but it was still extremely intense. Even with Viska's strength, she could not instantly kill a commander-class Shilin Apostle. After all, high-ranking Shilin Apostles were fundamentally not much weaker than true gods. One of the enemies was likely the fleet's Supreme Commander, perhaps a major general judging by his uniform, roughly comparable to the Three Hundred Commanders from back then. He was a tall, thin man with an utterly ordinary face, yet his combat power was indeed formidable. Relying on his own shield and some unknown type of Deflection Force Field, he could actually deflect Viska's sacred arrows head-on—though that was also related to the Rogue's regular brick-training causing her archery skills to decline—but he still lost in the end. This Fallen Apostle commander specialized in long-range combat, as could be seen from the floating cannons he summoned and the weapon in his hand. In the cramped confines of a warship, he had no room to show his strengths. Meanwhile, Viska was someone who never played